Spurling, for so was she named, had a warm nut-brown complexion, almost as dark as a Creole; and a moustache on her upper lip, that would have done no discredit to the oldest dragoon in the King's service. The man was mad to marry me. His figure was tall and commanding, and the expression of his countenance (though somewhat disturbed by his recent exertion) was resolute and stern. ’ ‘I was called in, ma’am, to catch a French spy—at least, that is what Pottiswick thought. " "Yes. ” Miss Stanley turned to her.
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